GISELLE

Giselle entered the tavern. She was certain everyone would stare, but no one did. Only a few tables were taken, just enough to remove the feeling of loneliness. The tavern itself was nice, small and comfortable. Warm fire was lit in the fireplace and one man played a flute in the corner next to it, loud enough to drown out the voices. And at the bar, the wolf sat.

Well, shit, Giselle thought, now she would have to play a game and she just wanted to sit alone with her thoughts. Deciding on taking it as casual as possible, Giselle approached the bar and sat on the stool. He was sitting on her left, drinking a cup of something that smelt like honey.

"I've always envied men for being able to sit alone in taverns." Giselle said, adjusting herself on the stool. The wolf lifted his cup towards her, without looking at her.

"God has created taverns for men to run away from screaming wives and children." The wolf said and smiled. It wasn't real, the smile, it was forced and unhappy. He wanted to be alone, Giselle realised.

"Exactly," she said, "that's what I've envied them for, I've been trying to get away from women all my life." Now, he did smile while shaking his head.

"Get the girl some mead, Benja." He told the bartender.

"Is that an invitation to a conversation?" Giselle asked.

"Depends, mostly, the only thing coming from a woman's mouth I find worth hearing is a moan." He lifted his gaze towards her and she held it.

So blunt, she thought. Yet he offered a hand earlier.

"Now, that's up to you, isn't it?" Giselle watched his eyes widen a little, almost like she surprised him.

"Foolishly brave and quick on the tongue. You just might not be the worst company in the world." He said right as Giselle's mead arrived and he lifted his cup to salute.

"So, you are hiding from a woman." Giselle came to a conclusion.

"My wife." He nodded.

"Oh, that's the worst kind. Of a woman, I mean." This won her a real smile and she found herself smiling like an idiot. Well, shit.

"And you are hiding from a man."

Giselle leaned towards him and hid her mouth as if she was about to whisper. "I think he fancies me." She said.

"Oh, that's the worst kind." He commented and Giselle smiled. It was a relief, she thought, talking to somebody who doesn't know anything about you.

"I don't know what is it with men, as soon as they love you, they think they are entitled to you. You know, wanting to serve and protect. Mostly protect." The words were out before she managed to think about them.

"It's in the blood. Where I come from, if a man cannot protect his woman and his children, he isn't really worth much." The wolf said.

Under the light of the candles, his eyes kept their grass green colour. Giselle noticed a scar, though, beginning at his temple and going straight down his face and the right side of his neck, ending behind the fabric on his chest. Someone cut him, she realised, this was no accidental wound.

"Where do you come from?" She asked and the wolf smiled.

"Clever, trying to find out more about me, when I was just starting to think we'd have a normal conversation." He's figured out the game again. Giselle lifted her cup to seal the deal she was about to propose.

"How about, instead of playing games, we tell the truth? It doesn't need to concern anything we have in common, such as the Monarchy?"

"Alright, let's move to a table. I'll get us a flagon."

And so they did. Satisfaction ran through Giselle when she realised the entire ball has just started and she had plenty of time to hide in a small tavern by the edge of the village. The flute man kept playing, she would give him gold later. She would give the bartender some gold if he kept this place open.

"Why are you here, then? I've counted on no one finding me here." He started and Giselle sighed.

"I've been made recently and let's just say my past life has come back to haunt me." The mead was delicious but she kept drinking slowly.

"Lucky you, my past life had been haunting me so long my present life has come to join and help." Devan said.

"I swore I'd do it better next time around," Giselle sighed again, "but I feel the same, better yet, I feel as if I would've done the same."

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. People say you learn from your mistakes, but truthfully, I think you learn immediately after the mistake. If enough time has passed, you'll forget why you promised to never do it again, whatever it is."

"But I died. And I feel as if it had taught me nothing." She cut him off at once, but Devan did nothing but smile.

"I'm sure it had. It had taught you that even the certainty of death cannot stop you from doing things you'll later regret. That's a luxury not a lot of people get – knowing how rotten they truly are." Devan looked into her eyes and whether she admitted it or not, she liked it.

"You seem comfortable with that knowledge." All of a sudden, she wanted to talk to him for the sake of talking.

"You want to hear something rotten? I'm hiding from my wife because she wants to become immortal." He whispered and Giselle looked at him questioningly.

"She's human?" She asked. Devan nodded pouring himself another drink.

"Either a wolf or a vampire, she doesn't care. But she wants the immortal life."

"But... you don't?" Giselle guessed.

"That's what happens when you get yourself in an arranged marriage. One lifetime with her is fine. But all other lifetimes... I don't know."

Giselle laughed out loud inappropriately and Devan glared towards her surprised.

"I'm sorry, but that is incredibly mean, and honest." She commented.

"Don't be so quick to judge, honesty usually is incredibly mean." Devan said, but a hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

Giselle watched him as he drank the mead, upfront she could barely see that scar, but she wanted to ask him what happened. But in order to get some, you have to give some.

"Do you know why I ran from Carcassonne?" Giselle asked and he looked at her suspiciously. "This isn't about the Monarchy, I swear." She added, her stomach in knots suddenly.

"Alright, go ahead then. But I do know Jack O'Neal is sure you wanted to have a child and your husband couldn't make one, you were afraid you'd burn because of it, right?" He knew much more than Giselle thought, but she smiled.

"Something like that, but the part he doesn't know is that I've been drinking liquid silver to prevent pregnancy for two years." Giselle said quietly, her heart beating. She simply assumed she could tell him this and she assumed right. Devan burst out laughing like a child and a strange feeling rushed through Giselle.
Well, hell, she wanted to see him laugh. Shit, she thought.

"Oh, that is priceless. And mind you, you're alive so I'm aloud to laugh." He said and Giselle smiled. This man was beautiful when he laughed and Giselle was in deep shit.

"I haven't told this to anyone. I feel like I'm tricking them into false sympathy." Giselle confessed and Devan took her cup, touching her fingers.

"Now, if you keep telling me stories about tricking men, I'll start believing you're trying to trick me." Giselle felt his fingers on hers. This was slowly but surely turning into a big mistake.

"Everything I've told you is the truth." She said and caught herself off guard as she realised it really was the truth.

"And isn't that the greatest trick of them all?" He asked.

Giselle was about to do an absurdly huge mistake. She put the cup down, but his fingers still brushed hers on the wooden table.

"If you don't want to spend eternity with her, you shouldn't." She whispered, her words barely leaving her mouth.

"And why is that, Giselle?" He withdrew his hand, a dangerous territory, then.

"Because what good is it being immortal if we cannot do what we want, if we cannot be free?" She hit the nerve, Giselle thought as she watched his eyes, a mixture of surprise and heartache. She felt heartache, as well, her heart stopped for a moment when she heard him say her name.

"A man is never free, at least not of his own responsibility. God has given us free will and therefore cursed us with choices. And a choice, as simple as it might be, is always your responsibility." Devan said.

"You seem to value your freedom." Giselle guessed. One thing had occurred to her during the conversation and she couldn't shake it off, she believed he wasn't a bad man.

"I'm sure you've heard rumours, but I've been north of The Kalmar Union, in a cold land covered in ice. There, things are run by the natural order and there is a certain satisfaction in it. Returning here, into this land of games and malice... That's the greatest injustice done to me."

Giselle's eyes went wide as she desperately tried to hide her shock. In a cold, cold land on a stormy night, she repeated in her head. Artefact of gold howled to a howl. Devan was a wolf. Could her mother's last poem be for him?

"I would've loved to go there." Giselle said and meant it. "There's no people up there, right?"

"None, only you and snow." Devan smiled.

"If somehow, we end up on the same side of this, would you ever take me there?" One more step into the dangerous territory. He caught her stare and held it for the longest time.

"You were human when you escaped Carcassonne. I'm sure you can go wherever your heart desires." He said sharply. But Giselle decided to speak her mind.

"You really are the slave of your responsibilities."

"That's because I'm a grown-up." Devan laughed.

"How about we let that go for one night, wolf?" Giselle asked, feeling her hands trembling. She knew she was taking it too far, but his eyes told her they were taking it a whole lot further.

"Then I suggest you stop trying to manipulate me." He said with a smile.

"I've stopped manipulating you the moment I saw you sitting here." Giselle said. Silence fell, full of tension and warmth. This wasn't the part of the plan.

"I've seen that man, the one you're hiding from, why not him?" He asked. This question required a specific answer and the best one Giselle could come up with was the honest one.

"He'd be perfect, he's kind and patient. He'd protect me all the way, keep me safe. But I would lose myself, he would dim my light by never letting me make a mistake. And that's not who I am. I am woven from my own mistakes, my darkness. I don't want somebody to change that, I want someone to accept that and let me thrive." It was the rightest answer of them all. Giselle saw Devan's eyes, the understanding in them.

"Here's an invitation, Elle, I'm going west after all of this. I will sale west. If we do end up on the same side of this, I want you to go west as well." He proposed and Giselle didn't know what it really meant, what this wolf really wanted, but she wouldn't ask. She also wouldn't ask about his wife.

"What happened, the scar?" Giselle changed the subject. Devan immediately touched the right side of his face, tracing the scar down his neck.

"They tried to take my soul." His voice was cool, but his eyes gave away a spark of pain when he looked at Giselle. "I didn't let them." He added.

So quickly, Giselle got so scared she wanted to keep this conversation going, because it was slowly but surely taking its course somewhere else.

"I need to ask one question." She said and Devan closed his eyes, pouring himself a cup of mead.

"I thought we agreed not tonight." He reminded her.

"I just need to know something, about Lerra. Is she the bad guy?" Giselle asked. Devan sighed.

"It really depends. But none of us are either bad or good, that's the fun part of it."

"Vlad will ask." She reminded him of something she was sure he already knew.

"I have great respect for Vlad, I believe in his judgement, even though he's lost his trust in mine. He will make the right choice." Devan said. It was a relief, this man respecting Vlad, because Giselle couldn't afford to have her loyalties divided. She began playing with her bracelet, nervousness washed over her.

"Perhaps, we can finish the conversation tomorrow." She suggested.

"I don't know, Giselle, I am quite sure we will finish tonight." Those words hit the right stop and Giselle stared at him, frightened. The battle within her began. For a moment, she wished she really was simply manipulating him, but she was only manipulating herself.

"You really believe none of us are simply good or bad, don't you?" Giselle asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"That's the tale as old as time, the one about good and evil, of what's right and wrong." He began. "And I'll tell you, I don't think they even exist, at least not where we stand. There's only what helps you survive and that's all we really want. We've created the distinction, created the rules to obtain the peace. But in reality, peace is the only time those rules apply. We're all moral and righteous in the time of peace and when the war comes, suddenly everyone wants the Devil on their side."

Weirdly, those words made Giselle feel better about all of her previous choices and she didn't know whether she was grateful or not.

"That sounds like an excuse, for all the evil you've committed." She noticed.

"A man should live with his sins, but a man should also know others don't. And that is the war we are fighting, against men who do not live with their sins, men who aren't haunted during nights." Devan smiled, looking at her.

He was magnificent, Giselle thought against her will, he was capable of things she couldn't even imagine. But he chose to leave, he chose to roam the world rather than living in this one.

"Isn't it irresponsible? Knowing you could make this world a better place and choosing to stay on the outlines." Giselle asked and quietly appreciated how he wouldn't get offended if she spoke her mind.

"There you have it, the reason I came back."

Giselle stared at him, drinking in the sight of his face, his strong features and his warm eyes. She had to leave, Giselle realised, she had to leave now. And the struggle within her went on a whole new level. She watched the golden bracelet she's been playing with.

"I should go." Giselle told him. Before she lost all sense of reason, she added in her mind.

"You probably should." He agreed. For a moment Giselle wished he would stop her, but she got up, leaving some gold on the table for the bartender. She looked at the wolf one more time and with a last ounce of nerve, she left, leaving her bracelet on the table.

Her heart was beating like a war drum as she opened the tavern door and stepped out on the street. The crowd died down outside, but she still heard the music coming from taverns and the castle. Giselle stood there, breathing in the chilly air of Cardona. Her stomach twisted and turned as she thought about the man she left in the tavern. She began counting.

She got to three when the tavern door opened. Giselle turned around to face him, in the darkness of the moonless night.

"You left your bracelet." He murmured and approached her slowly.

Giselle nodded, not breaking eye contact. Her heart in her mouth, she stared at him. He stood so close she could smell his hair. It smelt like grass.

"This is going to backfire, Elle." He removed a strand of hair from her face.

"I know." She managed.

And then his lips were on hers. He kissed her like he had done it a million times before, like he knew exactly what the shape of her lips was. Devan grabbed her by her waist and pulled her closer. She leaned into his touch, tasting his incredibly soft lips, wondering how in the world can they fit so well. Darkness surrounded them as he kissed her, never taking his hands off her body, his touch sending sparks through her very core. Devan smiled through the kiss.

"We're on the street." He whispered.

"I don't care." Giselle shook her head.

"I thought you were a lady." He smiled, holding her tightly against his body. Giselle looked him in the eyes, fear and anticipation dancing in her belly, sending heat waves through her skin against her will.

"I don't care." She repeated.

Devan kissed her again, lifting her off the floor and carrying her deeper behind the tavern. The roughness of the kiss increased and so did the beating of Giselle's heart. She wanted him, she wanted his skin on hers, the clothes around her seemed useless.

Someone screamed.

And Devan pushed Giselle away almost as if someone slapped him. Devan looked her dead in the eye, confusion probably written all over Giselle's face.

They heard another scream, followed with multiple voices, shouting, yelling.

"Shit." Devan murmured. "Not now. Not fucking now."

"What's going on?" She asked, but Devan was already moving.

He took Giselle by the hand and pulled her with him, never returning to the street. Shouting increased, but Giselle still couldn't understand what they were saying.

"We have to go, now. You need to come with me." Devan whispered as they sneaked behind the houses. Giselle could feel the panic that increased on the streets, something was happening. People shouted and some even screamed, it sounded like a prelude to a fight. Not knowing what else to do, Giselle followed Devan.

"One of the werewolves did it!" Shouting turned into words and Giselle stopped immediately.

"Keep moving, we need to reach the castle." Devan said, his voice on edge, she realised he probably tried keeping himself from shouting.

"It was the werewolf, the wolves are guilty!" Another voice reached Giselle's ears and she couldn't stop the panic building up inside her gut.

"We must burn him!" Another voice. Giselle stopped and glared at Devan, looking for an explanation. But he simply grabbed her by her hand again and pulled her towards him.

"We need to get to the castle." He said, his words quiet but sharp.

They entered the castle through the back door and followed the stairs down to a small stone room. To Giselle's utter surprise they ran into Lerra De Noves.

"Take her!" Devan said out loud finally. The look on Lerra's face was nothing short of pure disgust.

"Jesus Christ, where the fuck am I supposed to take her? Why did you bring her here? Shit is going down, Roua, and she is nothing but a liability." The Queen said.

"Lerra, I swear to God I will rip your fucking throat out, take her now!" His eyes were full of rage and Giselle was scared of the man she's been kissing a few moments ago.

"Look at you, already learning the best way to a man's heart is the simplest one." Lerra turned to Giselle, an evil smile dancing on her lips.

"Lerra, I need to go out there, take her." Devan commanded again and Lerra rolled her eyes. Devan looked at Giselle one more time, but she couldn't read his face. Her eyes tried to tell him to go find her friends, but she realised his mind probably didn't hear. He left her alone with Lerra.

"Let's take you to safety, shall we?" Lerra said, but her smile wasn't reliable, Giselle didn't really feel safe.

"What's going on?" Giselle asked, once again, already quite certain she wouldn't get an answer.

"None of your fucking business." Lerra said as they entered another room, Giselle knew they weren't above ground anymore. A black haired woman was there, one Giselle didn't recognise.

"Get her in the chambers with Tamara." Lerra told the black haired woman and she in return looked at Lerra with surprise.

"You are insane, Lerra, she's a vampire!" The woman shouted.

"Do I look like I fucking care? Put her in! I need to leave right now, I'm already fucking late because apparently, people can't keep their cocks in their pants around you." She turned to Giselle, her eyes full of rage.

"Come with me." Said the black haired woman offering her hand. Giselle took it and threw one final glance towards Lerra, a wicked smile playing on her lips. Then they disappeared and Giselle couldn't hear the screams anymore.